


Ew

by Anonymous



Category: South Park
Genre: Belly Rubs, Burp Kink, Cum Inflation, Cum belly, Gross, Hurt/Comfort, K-kinda?, M/M, Nursing, Prostitution, Statutory Rape, Underage Sex, belly inflation, cum burp, cumflation, eructophilia, idk its gross dont read it, slutty kenny, titty sucking, tummy noises, uh theres a lot going on here, upset tummy, whore kenny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 15:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Kenny gets off a gig and goes right to a slumber party and uh. See the tags.
Kudos: 1
Collections: anonymous





	Ew

**Author's Note:**

> blows a kiss to my bitches in the server

Kenny didn’t prefer to burden his friends with uncomfortable knowledge, especially before he deemed them “mature” enough to handle it. They knew he acquired money in generous spurts, though never seemed to have any left by the next day. He was careful to establish that he found pity sickening before sharing that he had to spend any money he earned immediately, or else his parents would find it and spend it on drugs. He was a few years older still when he gave in to their nigh-constant wheedling to affirm their suspicions that yes, he was pursuing a highly successful career in prostitution. Stan and Kyle attempted to make apologies for first getting him hooked on whoring with their pressuring him into Krazy Kenny antics back in fourth grade. He only laughed.

“Right, like _that_ was the first time I’d blown a dude.”

Stan and Kyle did not find this fact to be as soothing as Kenny had intended it to be. Cartman, meanwhile, was eager to mock their wealthier friends for their naivete. His ability to scry all the symptoms of whoredom in Kenny while completely missing them in his own mother did not go without comment.

Unable to convince their friend to cease his only means of breadwinning, the boys instead took to providing a soft place for him to retreat to when things became too heavy. Or, more frequently, when _he_ became too heavy.

Kenny arrived to the sleepover last. Cartman had the pizza order queued up on the website; he sent it through the instant he heard Kenny on the basement steps.

“ _Finally_ ,” he grunted. “We’re _starving_.”

Pointedly toward only Stan and Kyle, Kenny hummed, “Sorry. There were more dudes at the gig than they’d said there’d be.” He dropped the grocery bag he used in lieu of a backpack over by where the others had set up their sleeping bags. “You didn’t have to wait for me to get food. I’m seriously full to bursting.”

He sighed in a fashion more suitable to someone’s dad as he popped open his coat and proved this to be true. Freed from the confines of his tightly packed parka, his rounded gut protruded under his white tee. On his scrawny frame, it sat oddly, hanging beneath the visible slats of his ribcage like a baby bump, but wobbly and yielding. With another sore exhale, he popped the fly on his jeans. More belly poured out, bouncing under its own weight. He ran a hand over the surface as he subdued a burp in the back of his throat.

“I got the cum sweats,” he strained to mumble.

”Dude,” Kyle said.

“Dude,” Stan said.

“Wow.” Cartman was the only one to sound more impressed than appalled, if only marginally so.

Kenny shrugged, and then dropped his pants. The boxers underneath protected what little modesty he could be said to have. “Don’t be mean to me. I don’t feel good.” He punctuated himself with a low, queasy belch.

“You smell like dick cheese.”

“Leave him alone,” Kyle snapped in Cartman’s direction, before turning a much kinder gaze toward his abdominous bro. “Dude, you okay?”

“I probably won’t die from a cum overdose, if that’s what you’re asking. I just feel like...like, when you suck the foam off the top of a beer and then chug a bunch before you can get the air out, so it’s like, all that liquid weight is just pushing down the bubbles, but it’s like two gallons of super thick, soupy beer and the bubbles are really tough and sticky and your tummy can’t get hot enough to melt it all down right so it’s just congealing in there like a big vat of glue or yogurt or something. It’s all _tight_ and _crampy_. And I’m trying to burp up all the air but it just hurts worse and I really don’t wanna throw up but. I don’t know.”

Kyle and Cartman looked on with an appropriate mix of revulsion and concern. Stan noted, “You had me in the first half and then you lost me.”

Kenny huffed, settling on the floor. He pulled his friends’ sleeping bags around himself like a cocoon. “I’m fine. Just leave me to suffer.”

Stan dropped the controller he held and crawled over toward where his friend pouted. “C’mon, don’t be grouchy. What can we do?”

“Don’t worry about me. Just go back to your game. Maybe I’ll just go home to be smelly and gross all on my own.” His belly warbled in agreement.

“Dude, cut it out.” Kyle, too, set down his controller and moved toward where Stan was gently scratching behind Kenny’s ear, like he would a cat. “Do you want some Pepto or something?”

Feigning shyness, Kenny averted his eyes as he rubbed idly over the bulge of his stomach. Kyle made a demonstration of rolling his eyes before he, too, set to rubbing at Kenny, massaging soothing little circles into his back.

As loathsome as Cartman could be toward most people, he had no compunction toward happily displaying the soft spot he held for his most pathetic of friends (barring Butters.) He got out of his chair with a fat-guy grunt to join the burgeoning cuddle party. “Does he want belly rubs? Does Kyinny want the belly rubs?”

Kenny stuck his bottom lip out and nodded. “And pets and snuggles.”

“What a brat,” Stan said without malice. He leaned back against the bald cinderblock wall and pulled Kenny into his armpit. Slowly, he pet the side of his swollen gut. “Eugh...it’s warm.”

“Well, I mean, it’s cum, so yeah, it’s probably warm.” After venting his sarcasm, Kenny purred pleasantly and nestled deeper into his friend’s embrace. “That feels really good...can I have a boobie?”

It was Cartman’s turn to portray performative pique at how spoiled Kenny had become, as if the three of them weren’t solely to blame. He crawled in close to Kenny’s other side, shoulder-to-shoulder with Stan, and lifted his shirt to bare one fully rounded breast. Kenny craned up to take a nipple into his mouth. He didn’t suck so much as just run the softness against the sensitive inner curve of his lip, reveling in the nostalgic comfort of suckling.

Kyle furrowed his brow, jealous. With either side taken, he instead opted to come at Kenny from below. Very carefully, he placed his head atop the squishy pillow of the blond’s tumid tummy. He nuzzled close to give his friend’s passel of pooch a quick kiss before turning his hands upon it, working in harmony with Stan to massage the firm knots of gas buried under the softness.

Kenny didn’t bother pulling away from Cartman’s titty, but just let his mouth hang open as a gurgle rose up his throat, hitting the hollow of his mouth with a strident blast. He returned to nursing with a sleepy smile.

“Good job, Kenny,” Cartman cooed. He gave Kenny’s back a series of firm pats. “C’mon, keep going.”

A trill of whining guts roared through Kyle’s ear. He grimaced slightly; as much as he adored his charming little train wreck of a pal, the fact that less than an inch of flesh separated him from a broiling cauldron of strangers’ ejaculate was difficult to put out of his mind. The distinctively dickish scent of Kenny’s breath did little to assuage his struggle. Still, when Kenny’s hand idly trailed under his hat to grip into his soft curls, it was hard to deny him any comfort at his disposal.

“Dude,” Stan grumbled, pointing to Cartman’s groin, “don’t get hard.”

“Oh, okay, lemme just suck that boner back up into myself like the air spout on an innertube. Numbnuts.” Cartman glowered. “Have you ever had Kyinny suck on your titty? No? Then shut your bitch-ass mouth.”

Kenny pulled off the nipple to pout. He barked a truncated belch, and then simpered, “Don’t _fight_. I _like_ that he’s hard.”

Cartman sneakily stuck his tongue out, but kept quiet. Stan set his jaw. “How does this feel, Kenny?”

“ _Goooood_.” A dribble of milky spit breached his bottom lip. He hiccupped sleepily. Cartman gave him another firm pound between the shoulders, and he gurgled out another sonorous eructation. With a patronizing peal of praise, he aimed his boob back into Kenny’s open and awaiting mouth.

With each pocket of air they freed, Kenny’s stomach quieted and shrank back toward its usual flat plane. Under the warm, tender ministrations of his triumvirate of psuedo-dads, he hiccuped and burped and sighed and purred, falling into a shallow, smiling doze. In his sleep, he suckled at Cartman’s teat and gripped tight to Kyle’s soft hair.

“Guys, this is bad.” Cartman whispered. “What’re we gonna do when the pizza gets here?”

“Well...I can get up without waking him up...I think you can too, Cartman...,” Kyle gazed over at Stan in pity. “We can bring you food, if you want?”

Stan grimaced. “Dude I don’t want to eat in Kenny’s cumbreath cloud.”

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad. Doesn’t it kinda smell...” Cartman trailed off as Stan and Kyle narrowed their eyes.

“What?”

“What were you gonna say?”

“Nothing.” Kenny burped in his sleep, and then giggled at the tickle in his tummy.

“No, Cartman, what were you gonna say?”

“He was gonna say the smell reminds him of his mom.” Kyle asserted confidently.

”NO, I was NOT going to say that,” Cartman stage-whispered.

“It _does_ kinda smell like Cartman’s mom, doesn’t it?”

Kenny mumbled something, and then blinked awake. “Are we talking about Cartman’s mom? I was shposed to...oh, yeah. I was shposed to tell her Daddy Bishop says he’sh coming for hish— _bwoorp_ —his fuggin’, uh, his money.”

Cartman gave Kenny’s belly a hard slap. He gave a meaty gag as warning, and then blasted out a torrent of steaming cum across the entire span of the cuddlepile.


End file.
